I pull myself toward the shore, but the fallen tree isn’t as determined as I am. The root structure on the bank tears loose with a low, horrible groan.
“No,” I gasp as I feel the tree shift and slowly rotate.
The current picks up right where it left off, taking me and the tree along with it.
The roar becomes deafening.
The water quickens.
The edge arrives.
And then…
The world ends.
Chapter Two
Calista
“HEAVE!” I shout, pulling on the wet, heavy net until my muscles scream for mercy. “HEAVE!”
Four of us are pulling up the huge net, but it’s still barely moving. My pulse quickens with excitement. It’s a full one. We may be able to dock early with the way we’re going. Our cargo hold is already almost packed with product. I know the boys would like to celebrate the weekend in town with their pockets full of copper coins. I just want to see the look on my dad’s face when I sail in early, my ship overflowing with stock.
“HEAVE!” I shout, all of us pulling as one. More men run over, adding their strength to the task.
With grunts and curses, we pull the last of the massive net over the rail and iteruptsonto the deck of my ship. Silverbacks slide across the deck in a living wave of thrashing, wiggling fish, their gorgeous silver scales shining in the early morning light. There must be two thousand of them. At least.
My crew cheers and hollers, slapping each other’s hands and backs as the whole deck is suddenly alive with slapping, jumping fish.
“We’re going to be rich, lads!” Isen shouts from the rigging up above.
I feel my cheeks burning, I’m smiling so much. There is a fortune here in silverbacks. This must be the hottest spot in the ocean.
“Gods,” Petr shouts over the chaos, ankle deep in silverbacks and grinning like an idiot. “Dats the biggest haul I seen in thirteen seasons.”
While the boys are celebrating, my eyes are moving fast over the writhing mass, looking for the real treasure.
My heart stops when I spot four of them. Tangled deep in the bottom fold of the net, massive and dark against the flash of silverbacks, are four deepjaw. Four. One would have made it a good season. Two would have made it a great one.
Four is… I don’t even know what to say. Every tavern from here to Driftwick will be talking about this.
“Grab the deepjaw,” I shout, pointing them out. The smiling faces vanish as everyone spots them and gets to work. Valther grabs the biggest one, holding it by its tail and neck. Edrik and Briallen each grab another. I carefully untangle a female from the net, whispering soft things to her as we all rush down to the cargo hold.
Deepjaws are long, dark, and heavy as sin. It’s a mean, ugly fish, but it’s also the most savory flavor in the entire kingdom.
She thrashes in my arms, all muscle and mouth and attitude, trying to snap off a finger with those razor-sharp teeth and that powerful jaw. I’ve heard of fishermen losing digits to these deep-sea monsters. A missing finger is a badge of honor amongst us sailors, but I’m determined not to lose anything today, so I keepmy hand clenched around her thick neck, staying alert to her every movement.
Petr races ahead of us, opening the special vault. It’s filled with iron rich salt water. We each place them in gently, being as careful as we can.
“That’s a sight to see,” Edrik whispers as we watch them swimming around in the tank.
“Four,” Briallen says in disbelief. “Not even the great Captain Malden caught four in one haul. You’re going to be famous, Calista.”
“Let’s get them home alive before we start writing the history books,” I say, taking one last look at them before I close the top of the vault.
They’re not going to be worth anything if they’re dead. The royal palace is the biggest buyer of deepjaw in the whole kingdom. It’s said that King Orren would eat them three times a day if there was enough supply. These four will last him three weeks at least if we can get them to him alive.
I’d love nothing more than to stay here and watch those four fish swim, but we have work to do.
